7. Stolen Pink Thing
Stolen Pink Thing
SARAFINA
Hearing Carter at the bedroom door, Jules poked her head out of the sitting room with wide eyes, and I frantically waved her away.
She grinned at me before quietly disappearing around the corner.
“What do you want?” I asked, wincing as my voice came out irritated once again. What was wrong with me? I was glad to see him. More than glad, but I also felt off, weird, unsure of how to act. Jumpy. Neurotic. Need I go on? Because I definitely could.
“Can I come in—are you decent?” Carter asked.
I forced myself to take a slow breath before responding, “Yeah, come on in.” I turned on my tufted stool with arms crossed as the door cracked open.
“Yes?” he confirmed again.
“What do you need?” I asked, and his head finally popped through the door slowly, making sure the coast was definitely clear.
He stepped into the threshold, filling the doorway as he gripped the frame just above him, and I watched as the sleeves of that obscene athletic shirt were victimized by the biceps he’d mercilessly shoved into them.
He’d always been outrageously tall and athletic, but now he was thick , covered in lean muscle that rippled with his every fidgety movement.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He looked nervous. Carter never looked nervous, and there was something oddly cute about it. Giant hulking man afraid of tiny little woman. Ugh. Stop.
I nodded, any response getting stuck in my throat when he slipped into my room and softly closed the door behind him, before he leaned his massive frame against it— effectively trapping me in!
Just the proximity of him and all sorts of things were shifting inside me with sinful delight. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor! What the hell was wrong with me?
Carter rubbed the palm of his hand with his thumb, his eyes a mixture of emotions as he searched my face, and I broke eye contact first. So much for being the winning primate.
“Are we okay?” He asked softly.
I spun around on my stool to face the mirror and tried to act casual as I started applying makeup, or rather attempting to, because I couldn’t think straight—let alone remember the makeup routine I’d done every day for the past, however many years.
“Of course we’re okay. Why wouldn’t we be okay?
” My voice sounded high and pitchy, and even I didn’t believe myself. Oy.
I dared a peek at him through the gilded mirror, and he gripped the back of his neck, mouth parting as he searched for the right words. “I uh—I figured Liam and your mom would update you—about what was going on with me.” He winced.
“They did.” I said flatly and dug around in the mother-of-pearl inlaid drawers for absolutely nothing at all, because I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t process anything with him so close. He was sucking all the oxygen out of the room, and suffocation would be oh so sweet right about now.
He was quiet for a long while, and when I finally looked at him in the mirror again, he was just watching me. I dropped my gaze, feeling my cheeks heat, though I couldn’t explain exactly why.
He pushed his massive frame off the back of my door, and every cell in my being buzzed with awareness as he padded across the plush floral rugs towards me .
Slowly, carefully , he leaned against the edge of my vanity—my bare knee brushed against his leg, and I quickly readjusted, but he didn’t move at all. No, he was exceptionally still. Except for the quick rise and fall of his broad chest.
We both stayed like that, frozen, until he finally grabbed the hair tie off my vanity and played with it for what seemed like an eternity.
Just spinning that little pink band, round and round, while I watched, like I was being hypnotized, because maybe I was.
His corded arms flexed with the motion, muscles rippling under the floral tattoo inked up one of his arms. He’d never been a mere mortal man.
Ever. But me, I was as average as they came.
Which is exactly why I needed to remember, why I’d tried so freaking hard to move on back then.
“I’m really sorry if I hurt your feelings—and uh, how I handled that night—there are some things I would have done differently.
” He murmured, finally looking at me, and this time I held his gaze even though I felt like I might disintegrate.
“You were just so upset with me…” He trailed off, eyes searching mine.
“I just—I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me after I left—after everything that had happened, and uh, I thought maybe I should give you some space.
” His Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed thickly and then quickly added.
“Maybe that wasn’t the right choice on my part.
I just… um.” He was never at a loss for words.
“I didn’t know what you needed, and I—I guess I was just scared that if I reached out too soon, I’d push you away and…
” He searched my eyes, lips parted, desperately struggling to decide exactly what to say.
My shoulders sagged, realizing he was incredibly nervous while I was busy trying to play tough. “I know.” I murmured quietly, hating that I’d let him leave, thinking we weren’t on good terms. “I’m really sorry too, for letting you leave like that.”
If anything had happened to him, I would have been completely devastated.
I was being so petty for acting like this.
Letting him put his life on the line with old grievances at home.
I was being the worst, and I decided right then and there I would do better.
Carter deserved way better than I was treating him, and even if my feelings were hurt—it wasn’t his fault, it was mine.
Me wanting something that was never going to happen.
The sooner I got over it, the sooner we could get back to normal.
Get back to being friends. Easier said than done.
Carter twisted the hair tie around either finger, again and again, and I found myself laser-focused on his hands. God, why did he have to have such nice hands? Big, wide, covered in rough calluses, long fingers . I swallowed hard.
“I missed you a lot, you know.” He confessed it so quietly I wondered if I’d misheard him, but I hadn’t.
I chewed on my lip, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to consume my entire face. “You did?” I said nonchalantly as I could manage, but years of deciding I didn’t care, that convincing myself what was between us was actually nothing—it all went straight out the window. Perfect.
“Of course.” He said, his golden brown eyes lighting ever so softly. “I thought about you ev—” He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Of course I missed you. You’re yellow and I’m blue.”
My smile broke free, I just couldn’t help it. “I’m really glad you’re home. I thought you might have forgotten about me.” I admitted and then internally rolled my eyes at myself. Why? Just why in the hell would I admit that out loud?
“You? Never.” He grinned, focusing back on the hair tie he was playing with.
How could someone I knew so well feel so damn unfamiliar?
Even back then, when I’d had a huge crush, there had always been a comfort between us, an easiness—because out of all my brother’s friends, Carter had always been the kindest to me.
Now, I felt uncertain, like I didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing.
“Are things going well for you?” I asked slowly, knowing that was the stupidest question in the world.
“Yeah,” he said with a soft smile. “Really well. I’m up for a promotion soon.”
“Yeah?” I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “That’s good.” I nodded, unsure where to go from here. Truth was, there were a million and one things I wanted to ask him, a million and one things I wanted to tell him—I just didn’t know how.
We looked at each other dead in the eye, and for a mere moment, everything was right—just for a millisecond, it was like no time had passed at all.
He looked at me expectantly, and I wondered if I should stand and hug him. Realized a part of me was aching to touch him, to remember what it felt like to be wrapped in those rare, strong-armed hugs that seemed to make the world disappear.
I could almost read the same thought in his eyes, but just then my bedroom door burst open, and a tall blonde blur of otherworldly beauty exploded into the room.
“Carter!?” Sloane squealed, with her silky blonde hair and effortlessly perfect makeup—she was always picture perfect, because she was quite literally a runway model. Meanwhile, I sat like a wet rat on my vanity stool, suddenly so unsure of what to do with my hands.
“Hey!” Carter said, his voice immediately full of his usual pep, dissolving all the tension in the room. “Good to see you, Sloane.”
“Carters home.” Sloane grinned at me before turning back to Carter. “Damn, you got ripped, Kensington.” She didn’t apologize as she checked him out unabashedly, and while his attention was focused on her, I used the opportunity to greedily do the same.
He chuckled. “That tends to happen when you work out for a living.”
Sloane, not one for subtly, yanked him up off the vanity and spun him in a circle like a debutante. She was tall, but he still had to duck under her arm to oblige her, and I chuckled because he was always such a good sport—putting up with our antics over the years.
“Not bad.” Sloane critiqued and gave him a slow, dramatic clap of approval. I couldn’t help but smile. She was right. His transformation was real good.
Carter shook his head, a blush spreading across his tanned cheeks, and I wondered where he’d gotten so much sun. “Alright, I guess I’ll leave you girls to it.” He cast a long look at me before closing the door behind him, but not before—I caught a flash of pink around his wrist.
My heart tripped realizing what it was.
My freaking hair tie.
Sloane hooked a thumb over her shoulder as the door clicked shut. “Carters home.” She whisper-screamed, her eyes wide with knowing.
I rolled my lips over my teeth and quickly spun back to the mirror, as Jules reappeared, shaking her head with a grin.
“What’d he say? No, what’d you say?” Sloane begged, eyes gleaming as she hugged the bedpost, comically sashed by the drapes hanging over my bed. “You two were awfully cozy up here.”
“He just wanted to make sure we were okay.” I started casually applying my mascara even while my heart continued racing.
“And are you?”
“Of course.” I shrugged. “It’s Carter we’re talking about here, you know he doesn’t have beef with anyone.”
“I’m pretty sure he’d give his beef to you .” Sloane grinned, coming closer while Jules groaned.
“Sloane!” I threw a lipstick at her.
“What?! I’m just saying.” She caught the tube straight out of the air and proceeded to apply a swipe. “You’re both older and wiser. Who knows? ”
“ I know .” I groaned. “We’re just friends. That’s all.” I emphasized, trying to convince myself just as much as her.
“Okay, suuure.” Sloane nudged me knowingly before climbing all the way into my bed, under the pillowy covers and all. She tucked one of my childhood stuffed animals under her arm before pulling her phone out and adding smugly, “Today should be fun, I’ve always loved a little holiday romance.”
“Me too.” Jules chimed, heading to the ensuite to finish drying her hair.
“There’s no romance!” I groaned, but my heart fluttered at the thought of what the rest of the day might bring.
Carter was home. And he’d just stolen my only hair tie.
I smiled to myself. Aww crap.